That Day in June
by Breezy Autumn Winds
Summary: For a brief moment in time, they are able to indulge in one another. For a brief moment, they are almost free. Almost. Unabashedly Clerith. Takes place during Disc 1.


AN:

This is just a fanon moment and character study.

I hope Cloud doesn't seem too OOC. I'll try to justify it by saying that during this story he's still very much still attempting to align his personality with his false memories. I'm not sure if this is the post or pre the famous "I want to meet you" scene, but regardless Aerith is really tired of this phony Cloud and sees through his mirage clear as day.

I hope you enjoy this story. It is the first story I've written in a _loooong_ time, and my first FFVII story. Whoa.

* * *

 ** _That Day in June_**

Things were all wrong, the Planet was hurting. She could feel it in her bones. A freezing, dense chill settling into the marrow. It made her feel like she was aching, cracking open from the inside out. As if one wrong move would shatter her, send her exploding into a thousand pieces.

Powers or no powers, she isn't the only one feeling pressure. She knows that. Several people in her group were on edge. Antsy, she could see it in their rigid shoulders, in their clenched jaws if nothing else. The mission was dangerous. Necessary; but if one thing went wrong the results would be catastrophic for more than just their little ragtag group. That wasn't the sort of thing you could just shake off. More than one crew member had already confessed to feeling like they were staring their own death in the face. And in the privacy of her own skull, Aerith couldn't disagree. There was a good chance, a huge chance, that she was not going to make it home to her mother.

But it's for the greater good. For the Planet. For the innocents living on this beautifully flawed little rock floating in the big, wide universe.

Yet every doubt she felt, every tremor, every chill…had to be kept under wraps. She shoved it down into the pit of her stomach where it formed an iron ball of dread and worry. And it sat there, heavy, making her nauseous at times – but to everyone else, she was the same as she had ever been. She wore the face of her positive, bubbly personality well. She kept the persona of a lively young woman who was strong and confident and collected. Clearheaded, giggly Aerith is what they saw her as. One dimensional and predictable. But if she had to be the steady glue to hold them together then so be it, it was a burden she was willing to bear.

Cloud, though their unofficial leader, was a completely different story. He managed to be as unpredictable and occasionally, completely unhelpful. A good portion of the time he was cocky, headstrong, not bothering to listen to anyone even when they knew better than him. He liked to throw around his weight in a display in battle, and that never failed to grate on her nerves because she knew it wasn't him. Not really. Cloud always failed to be convincing. Sometimes the false Cloud would retreat. Then he would become moody, quiet. He distanced himself and Aerith found it even harder to reach out to him. He never asked for it, but Aerith knew he wanted help. He was far too proud to ask for someone for support, though. The others let him wallow, not out of uncaring, but in a sense ' _Cloud will be Cloud_ '.

But Aerith didn't want it to be a matter of ' _Cloud will be Cloud'_. She wanted to help whatever it was scaring him, whatever it was having him split in two.

It would have been easy to push him away or ignore him as just completely unstable. Most people would have. It would have been easy for some to write him off as a loss, as a waste of her energy. But she could see right through all of the walls he was trying so desperately to build, then single-handedly destroy, only to reinforce later. If there was one thing she was good for, it was reading people. And Cloud was as open like a book with a cracked spine; always falling open to the same page. He was nervous. Terrified. Lost. Hurting.

Together they were as lost and vulnerable as children, the pair of them. Orphans of the world.

As much as she could see it about him, she knew he could read something within her, as well. He never said it out loud. But there was a pull. They gravitated towards each other. And Aerith couldn't even begin to describe exactly how it felt, other than…

The word _love_ was never uttered. Not that there were not moments… but Aerith could never bring herself to even whisper it. Despite the granules of optimism that she managed to cling to in a time when it felt like hope was a fleeting fantasy, she knew the world. She knew how cold and brutal it could be. And it felt like she was sparing Cloud, withholding that simple sentence. A handful of words too meaningful to just let slip. Besides, she couldn't even guarantee that they would be well-received. Knowing Cloud he would just shrink away. Clam back up and retreat into his shell. Just the thought of someone loving him could send him bolting – he, who in his mind was so undeserving, so unworthy of being loved at all. By anyone.

He was wrong, of course. Wrong about himself. He was more than deserving. Aerith wanted to be the one to make him realize…

* * *

The crisp summer morning saw an orange sun smearing gold across the sky, chasing away the last traces of a dreary, cloudy night. The rays crawled between the slats that covered the small windows as if the sun itself could reach in and pull the inn apart like a house made of gingerbread. It was a wordless agreement between the two of them when Aerith decided to step out. Cloud fell into step beside her, a constant at her side, and followed her out into the full morning light.

He continued by her side – getting close enough that their steps matched. Neither of them spoke, still, but the silence was comfortable at the very least. Cloud walked with his head high, with his shoulders squared – different from his usual moody slump. Shoulders falling forward. Head drooping like a wilting flower. She likes it when he walks like he has something to be proud of, but it always is a tell that he's cycling back to his cocky phase...

She made up her mind, then and there, to try something a little different. Cloud needed to unwind. He was so uptight. And the edge of the trees was the very place, right before he made a final turn to end their morning walk…

One more light step, and then she shot him a look – an impish little glimpse tossed over her shoulder. She turned towards the woods and sprinted, pushing all of her anxiety down – past her stomach, down into the balls of her feet where it quivered and she allowed it to propel her steps. She ran, and she could just feel his wide eyes, Mako blue, drilling holes into her head. He was looking at her like she had gone crazy. And maybe she had. She just kept running. Whether or not he was going to follow her, she wasn't even sure if she knew…

She laughed. The sound just burst out of her mouth, bubbling up her throat. A taunt. Follow me.

Another moment passed, and then she could hear him. Soft thumps against the earth as his feet pounded against the ground. It took him a moment to gain momentum, but he was just as spring-heeled as she was, and he would catch up quickly.

Aerith couldn't help it. She burst out laughing – whether it was hysteria or genuine giddiness, she wasn't sure. But her heart was pounding. Her cheeks were flushed red. She was laughing, teasing, and he was a silent predator in hot pursuit, every movement calculated for the spring to take her down. Despite his prowess, he kept hanging back – and she knew he was humoring her. He could easily catch up. Easily match her leaps and bounds if not out-pace her altogether.

Her chest was starting to burn – she was going to have to stop, even for just a moment, to at least catch her breath. She caught sight of an oak tree in her peripheral and veered off the path, darting behind the tree and plastering herself against the rough bark, heaving a deep breath and grinning. She could hear earth – leaves, twigs, soil – crunching underneath his feet. She circled the tree, and he followed her – attempting to 'catch' her, but never quite managing… she dragged her fingers over the bark, allowing her hand to linger just long enough for him to reach out. His fingers almost touching, almost…

Before he could touch her she slipped away again, darting off in a new direction. She didn't know where she was going. She had no idea where they could possibly end up. But she didn't care. She barely even knew what she wanted, where she thought this was going to go…

She wasn't even sure how long she had been running when she broke free of the line of trees, bounding into a clearing. It was strikingly beautiful – moss and grass plush underneath her feet – slightly overcast with how the towering trees arched their branches over the space, forming a canopy and blotting out most of the sky.

She found a sunny spot, a golden circle where the envious trees were not tall enough to intercede. She finally collapsed, giggling, into the grass. Her chest heaved as she tried to settle herself down, resting her hand on her breast, a few rogue chuckles skipping past her lips even so.

A shadow fell. She smiled to herself and looked up to see that Cloud had come to a stop right beside her, blocking out the sun with his bulky frame. His face was flushed from the exertion but he his breathing was still even – a testimony to his athleticism. Aside from the quiet puffs of breath, he was silent for a long minute.

She patted the grass next to her. "Join me?" A tenuous offer that punched a hole in the silence.

He stood there for a minute longer before dropping down beside her, a wordless descent.

"Well," she said, the words coming out a little drier than she anticipated. "That was fun."

"Is that what you call it?" His voice fell flat, but there was a glimmer in his eyes all the same. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, such that she had questioned whether or not she saw it at all.

"We shouldn't do that anymore," he continued, glancing up at the sky and squinting. Anywhere he could stare blankly was, apparently, better than looking her in the face. "We need to conserve our energy for…"

"For the mission," she finished his sentence, an exasperated little huff. She rolled her eyes, shifting her weight so that she could prop herself up on her elbows. "You don't have to tell me that, Cloud. I am well aware that the entire Planet depends on us. And I don't need you acting like I am not as serious about this as you are…" she shrugged, lifting one small shoulder. "We aren't dead yet, you know. So you can loosen up a bit. Live a little, you know?" It was meant as a joke, but it clearly didn't hit its mark. She prodded him in the side, hitting right between the ribs, and as lighthearted as she meant for the remark to be – it still fell flat. As flat as his enthusiasm. She could see the clouds start to roll in on his face. His mood soured almost immediately as he latched onto the word death.

"No one is dying," he said seriously. "No one." He was always so, so serious. His gaze was hard, now. His eyes impenetrable. "You're not dying."

"No one plans on dying, Cloud." This wasn't going at all as she planned. Aerith reached out and picked at a grouping of grass by her foot. "No one plans on it, but we need to at least acknowledge that we are on a dangerous mission. It's one of that has the possibility to take us to the Lifestream."

There was a long stretch of silence as she picked more grass, careful to avoid uprooting the freshly sprouted dandelions. She finally stopped what she was doing and looked up at him, smiling softly. "But it is worth the risk, isn't it? For everyone? For our loved ones?"

He shook his head only slightly, barely enough to register the movement. And then he leaned forward, lowering his chin so that his low tone was accentuated by the gesture. "You're n - no one is dying," he said, every word was drawn out – deliberate. "I won't allow it."

It was as solid as a punch to the gut. Aerith felt like her heart was going to stop dead in her chest for just a moment before she flung back, "You won't allow it? - " Aerith repeated aloud before shaking her head. "I – can we stop talking about this?" She chewed on the corner of her lip.

He didn't pull back. "Then stop talking about death. You're the one bringing it up." He sounded like a child, a scared little boy.

"I'm being realistic, Cloud!" She felt like she was screaming, but she knew she was not. Her voice was even, composed as it had ever been. She didn't want to sound like a child throwing a tantrum. But she felt like she was screaming. She felt like every part of her was being torn in separate directions and that there were a thousand mouths, a thousand voices buried in her brain.

"How is that realistic?!" His body was rigid. His eyes were so hard they may as well have been made of glass. Hard and shiny with all of the anger and fear he could not put into words. He could not let it affect his tone. His voice was as level as her own, but she could hear it – taut as a string. "You sound crazy, Aerith!"

His voice was raised but more than anything his tone sound pleading. Like he was begging her to take back what she said as if her doing so would erase all dangers they all were in. At moments like this she remembered just how much of a boy Cloud still was beneath his exterior.

Aerith couldn't bring herself to placate him with reassuring words. This was a reality and Cloud would have to just accept it.

Silence descended, smothering them like a thick blanket. This was the only thing they had ever fought so passionately about. They only topic that had ever brought them to this point. And here she was, defending herself – practiced and prepared, as always. But he was calling her insane. Of course, he thought she was insane.

Aerith let out a breath. Her shoulders sagged, and she dropped her head, turning her attention back to the grass that was still in her hands. "Let's - Let's stop arguing, ok? I don't want to do it anymore, not when we are in such a beautiful place." Another pause, and he didn't move. He didn't even pull back, and his shoulders were so tense. They were going to ache so badly later, she just knew, and he would never even let anyone rub them.

"Hold me?" she asked. It didn't even sound like her voice. It sounded like someone else entirely – a lost young girl lost and alone. A last of her kind. He just stared at her for a minute, his eyes a new color in the sunlight – bright and still impassable. She couldn't bear to be the subject of his gaze any longer.

Aerith started to lay back in the grass and Cloud followed. Slowly, he descended until he was stretched out next to her, arranging himself that he could be comfortable.

She lay there for a moment, just breathing next to him. Then she moved until she was also on her side, timidly reaching out until one arm was sliding underneath his. She snuggled close to his side, pressing against it, and he finally got the hint – moving his arms so that he was holding her. It was awkward at first, but that quickly faded into something more…familiar. Something strong, safe…comfortable.

They lay in silence together. It was perfect, that way, with the sun warming their skin, their bodies pressed so closely to one another. Aerith felt her eyelids getting heavier, sleep creeping in to stake claim after such heavy emotions, such…

"I would die for you, Aerith." His voice was soft. But it woke her up, sending a jolt of electricity up her spine. Her fingertips and toes were tingling with warmth.

It wasn't 'I love you', but it was a declaration just as powerful. It held the same weight. The same severity. The same warmth. Aerith buried her head in his side, pushing her face into his shoulder, releasing a deep, shaky breath.

"That's crazy. You sound crazy." She threw his words back at him with a playful lilt, wishing to forget it all and enjoy this moment between the two of them. "I would rather you live for me, Cloud," she said softly with a sigh.

Away from the noisy boom of the concrete Midgar, the beauty of nature on that particular day of June seemed to stand still for the briefest moment in time. The heavy air around them wasn't completely gone but it was now manageable, at least.

Aerith could breathe.

Cloud pulled her closer.


End file.
